Defiers Of Fate
by europeanslang
Summary: Under the stress of their journey, Snow comes to see Lightning as more than a companion. But will she return his affection? Named after a track on the FFXIII soundtrack. LightxSnow. Finally, chapter 3 is here! More on the way ;
1. Reunited

[_**Minor spoiler alert**_: my story begins in chapter 7 of the game, and some elements of this chapter are mentioned/used. I call these minor spoilers because they aren't shocking or that important, still, YMMV.]

Lightning paced back and forth, her mind drained of ideas. Her footsteps echoed in the vacant Palumpolum building. Several feet away, Fang leaned against a wall, the tapping of her spear accompanied to the clack of her metal-soled boots and the incessant buzz of gunfire.

She sighed, holding back the urge to punch a nearby pillar in desperation. Their only means of communication was gone, they had been fighting for hours without any idea how to reach their final destination, and it wouldn't be long before PSICOM's reinforcements arrived and they'd be outnumbered. They had stopped in the empty structure for a temporary respite from the constant battles.

Their best and only plan was to press onward and continue forging a path for themselves, taking down any and all soldiers and machines in their way. But secretly they both knew that they couldn't go on at this rate much longer.

Lightning glanced at the sky. The sun was setting behind the buildings of the once great city. Now it was swallowed by fear, teetering on the edge of war.

"It's late," she stated, still pacing. Fang looked up. "We should-"

A ghastly shriek interrupted her. Instinctively, she tensed. Experience told her the sound emanated from one of the giant bird like creatures they had encountered several times.

Another sound, like stone hitting stone, seemed to come from the same direction. Fang stood up, gripping her weapon.

"Reckon we outta check it out?" Lightning nodded.

They walked carefully up the stairs that would lead them to the flying beast. Lightning rested her hand tentatively on the hilt of her gunblade. They were about halfway up the flight when they heard a prepubescent cry that Lightning recognized almost immediately.

"Hope!" she screamed, breaking into a sprint. During their time in the Vile Peaks, she had grown accustomed to protecting her more vulnerable companion; the motherly instinct she had fostered hadn't quite worn off yet.

When she reached the balcony, she discovered that she had been correct in her assumptions: hope was fending off the giant winged creature. It hovered in front of him, slowly pumping its wings. But where was Snow? She quickly glanced around until she found him slouched against a pillar. She understood in horror that it was his body she had heard hitting the wall.

_Is he dead?_ The thought darted through her mind. But she didn't have any time to think; Fang had caught up to her and now the three of them were preparing to engage in battle.

* * *

Dazed from the blow and the injuries he accumulated earlier, Snow drifted in and out of consciousness. His eyelids felt heavy, and his head was spinning, and his chest throbbed in dull pain, yet he strained to open his eyes. _I have to help Hope,_ he thought. _The kid can't handle that thing on his own_. When he did open his eyes, he was shocked to see Fang and Lightning had returned. But it was the latter that held his attention.

There had been times on _The Lindblum_ that he had wondered if he would ever see his four companions again, especially Lightning. He had stronger feelings for her, because she was family. He couldn't deny that she was interesting to be around. Even when she was punching him in the face, she could always evoke some emotion from him. Or pain.

But now he saw her a little differently. Maybe he had formed a concussion, but she looked different. Maybe he had just never noticed, but she actually pretty attractive, like her sister. Maybe even more than her sister. Maybe it was her pale skin and lean, tone body coupled with her quiet confidence indicated both delicacy and deadliness.

And her agility. Fighting alongside her, he had never noticed the catlike grace of her fighting style. Her calculated movements flowed together, alternating between slicing and shooting. Her red cape flashed in and out of his view, struggling to keep up with her acrobatic flips and jumps. His attacks were nothing compared to the speed at which she executed her punches and dodges. He was amazed that anyone could fight so expertly, so _perfectly_. He was so captivated by her fighting that he didn't realize the beast was dead until he she put her gunblade away.

The three of them began to walk toward him but he fought to remain conscious. The pain in his chest was more than a nagging now; it stabbed him constantly. His eyes closed repeatedly against his will and his vision grew unfocused. He saw Lightning's brown leather boots grow closer.

_Snow._ Her voice was far away, like he was underwater. Maybe he imagined it, just like he probably imagined her hand on his shoulder, and her periwinkle eyes searching his body for signs of awareness. He attempted a smile before he slipped into unconsciousness.

_I hope she noticed._


	2. Contradicting Emotions

[Hey guys. I'm here to issue another _**MINOR SPOILER ALERT**_ based solely on the fact that this chapter is based heavily on a cutscene in chapter 7, though nothing is ever revealed per se except that Snow lives (glaringly obvious) and Hope reunites with his dad (not very relevant to the plot for long).]

The next time Snow woke up, he could have sworn he was hallucinating.

For the first time since he had left his hometown of Bodhum, he was in a bed. He was in a house. He was comfortable, a feeling that returned to him like an old friend. He tried to sit up, but a sudden sharp pain stabbed his upper body.

_Make that moderately comfortable._

Looking down at his naked chest, he saw a clean bandage wrapped around the base of his rib cage. Gingerly, he ran his fingers across the white starchy surface, periodically applying pressure until he found the tender area under his heart where the pain originated.

He groaned and turned his head as if the pain would fade away if he couldn't see it. And then he noticed Lightning.

She leaned against the wall, sheathing and unsheathing a knife casually, her eyes on him. Something flickered within them - was it relief? But it disappeared. He felt vulnerable in her gaze, as if she could see something he couldn't. Finally she spoke.

"You had several broken bones and some internal bleeding, but it's healing now. A normal person would be hospitalized, but you…you're just going to be sore for a day or two before you're back to saving the day." She spoke the last words sarcastically.

When she paused, he realized that she must have been the one to tend to his wounds. Again, her skill impressed him. Her medic spells were useful off the battlefield as well. He smiled, and he thought she might have smiled back. Then he promptly denied it; this was Lightning, she would sooner sprout wings and fly than crack a grin.

"You almost died; carrying Hope up the side of a building probably didn't help. But as long as you don't do anything stupid for a while, you'll make it."

"I'm not sure I can guarantee that." he chuckled, and then immediately winced.

Lightning acted as if she didn't notice. Absentmindedly, she put the knife away, distracted by her own thoughts. It was several minutes until she spoke again.

"Snow, I'm sorry I didn't believe Serah. Maybe if I had..." she sighed. "Maybe we wouldn't be in this mess right now."

He studied her. She really was remorseful, and he could tell she truly believed that, had she acted differently, their situation wouldn't be so dire. He couldn't imagine having to bear the weight of her regret.

"Lightning," he said quietly, staring at the ceiling, "You can't blame yourself for this."

She didn't attempt to argue. She was thinking about earlier, picturing his body slumped against the building like a rag doll.

_He could have died...and what if he had?__  
_

"Thank you," she uttered. He looked at her, eyes wide. "For earlier, in the city square. If you and Fang weren't there, Hope and I, well…I owe you."

He grinned. "Well maybe if you tell me your real name, I'll call it even." he struggled to sit up again, but it hurt too much.

"Dammit," he hissed.

Lightning sped to the bedside, glaring at him. "You shouldn't try to sit up yet, you're too weak." She began methodically checking his bandages. He watched her silently. A mischievous idea popped unto his head.

"You know," he said with a cocky grin, "Even injured, I bet I could still beat you in a fight."

"Hmph," she replied. "You're in no condition to fight."

"What's this? Are you _scared?_" He taunted.

She appeared to ignore him until she suddenly lashed out with her fist. He blocked it, grabbed her arm and flung her onto the bed, glad that his reflexes were returning to him. He needed them. In an instant she was at him again, punching his vulnerable chest.

But he barely felt the throbbing; his attention was absorbed in the fight. He had wanted to fight her ever since their adventure began (and especially on Lake Bresha), and he wasn't going to let some pain keep him from victory.

He hooked his leg between hers, intending to launch her off the bed, but it only entangled them. She used the momentum to roll him across the bed. They struck each other relentlessly as they spun back and forth across the covers, skin touching skin and leather and fabric. Though Lightning hit faster, her punches didn't hurt has much as his, which she frequently dodged. Several minutes later, they both paused, panting for breath.

The room grew awkwardly small as Snow felt pressure on his chest and realized Lightning was straddling him. He tried to react but his thoughts didn't make sense. He couldn't breathe when her face so close. Mere inches separated her lips from his. Her eyes were wide, frozen, confused; he thought that he must look the same. He could feel her breath on his neck like a warm breeze and her hands against his uncomfortably warm chest.

"Light..," he whispered.

The bedroom door opened, resonating like a clap of thunder in their little world, and, before he could react, she was off him, off the bed, standing several feet away.

It was Hope. He hadn't seen anything. "My dad wants to talk to you guys out in the living room." He had barely finished his sentence before Lightning had stepped past him through the doorway, her red cape swinging like a slap in the face.

Once he was alone, Snow carefully rose and got dressed, coming to terms with what had transpired. He could still feel the tips of her hair brushing his chin, the presence of her knees against his thighs, and her body hovering like a furnace above his. He couldn't deny that she had taken his breath away, or, something he was even more reluctant to admit: he had wanted to kiss her. He had imagined it in his head when she was so, so close. He had wanted to kiss his sister.

_Well, she's not really my sister…_

_But she might as damn well be._


	3. Guilt and a Broken Engagement

_[Chapter 3 has arrived, after getting a little lost for *checks calendar* 5 months? Whoops. I apologize to the countless (nine) human beings who have added this story to their alert list and probably labeled it dead by this point. I've been really busy with school, sports, blah blah blah. You all should be thankful that I managed to write this installment instead of answering questions about Jay Gatsby or summarizing the Civil War or solving problems about whatever we're going right now in AP chem. I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to comment about how it was totally worth the wait (LOL). I await your hate mail shortly. With love, LC. PS: to those aforementioned nine souls, I'm sending you all cookies via ESP. If you don't get yours, it's probably because you're a nonbeliever. Cheers!]_

Though Snow's journey took him to a diverse palette of places and situations, his mind was stuck on what had happened in Palumpolum. Guilt fatigued his muscles and made his stomach do back flips when he recalled how he had reacted toward lightning. Thinking about Serah as well only stung an already salted wound.

One day, while belaboring his regret yet again, something caught his eye on the stone floor of the ark. Tentatively, he picked up the pendant that used to be his engagement necklace. The once lustrous talisman was dull in his hand. It was heavy, much too heavy. Its descent had escaped his notice, only coincidence allowed him to find it on the floor. He turned it, noticing how it didn't reflect the light so much as it absorbed it. Its insignificant size and cold exterior contrasted with the livelihood of his warm hand.

Confused, he cleared his mind until it was empty and black. A single thought, like a beam of light, punctured the darkness and opened his eyes to a new reality.

The pendant was too heavy.

It was broken.

The pendant, whose twin was entwined in the ice encompassing his frozen bride, the one he had purchased to commemorate their marriage.

The engagement was broken.

The revelation haunted him. He knew it was true. Unable to part with the talisman, he tucked the necklace in his coat pocket. The weight was insignificant.

He knew that if his engagement was broken, he was too. He struggled to cope with the nameless emotions clouding him: grief, remorse, regret, guilt, sadness. He couldn't find any relent until he happened to glance at Lightning, and the clouds dissipated and he could breathe again, and he knew. He knew that she gave him hope again, and that she could save him from weight of his past and the trials of the present, for she must be his future.

Lightning could lift the guilt off his shoulders and give him the courage to dare that one day it would no longer exist. Thinking about Serah in her frozen purgatory had been poison to his soul; thinking about Lightning, whose well-being he could testify to every second, was less trying. In fact, thinking about lightning was intensely appealing to him.

Soon these thoughts, once considered blasphemous in his faithful delusion, controlled his mind like a parasite or, more aptly, an omnipotent ruler, consuming his imagination and his conscience and molding his actions, just as the Fal'cie had and continued to do. In fact, by the time their entourage had landed in Gran Pulse, it was not clear which was a more inexorable force on his person: Anima, or the affection that was brewing deep in his chest.

If changes happen slowly, we may not notice them at all. It was for this reason that Snow did not notice when his admiration for Lightning grew into infatuation. He had accidentally developed a crush on his fiancé's sister, and he was powerless to snuff it out.

As emotions arrested his being to greater and greater degrees, his demeanor changed, but only slightly. He rarely let Lightning out of his sight, and when he did, he was consumed by worry. When she wasn't looking, he would steal glances in her direction, mesmerized. No matter how often he conjured her image in his head, the likeness was never comparable to her true figure, though that did not stop him from thinking about her.

When he spoke, it was to extract a reaction from her. When he fought, it was for her. But everyone, even Lightning, was oblivious to these changes.

One day, as their party continued their journey, and his thoughts drifted to her yet again, a pressure pressed on his chest around where his heart was. It felt like there was something weighing down his coat pocket. Curiously, he opened his coat and discovered the source of the heaviness was Serah's crystallized tear. With a sinking heart, he realized he hadn't looked at it in several days. He turned it in his hand, staring through it.

_I don't remember it being this heavy…_

Suddenly, like a shadow, he was enveloped in shame. He chastised himself for his weakness. Surely he had been mistaken about his engagement; it wasn't broken, unless he had broken it himself due to the neglect of the past few days. Even if Serah was thousands of miles away in a crystal prison, she was there with him, depending on his strength, and more importantly, his loyalty. If he really was a decent –

"Snow?" He glanced up, icy eyes on him, his thoughts, and his doubt, interrupted. She smirked at him. "Having trouble keeping up with the group? You can talk her later; Serah can wait."

_Serah can wait._ Without hesitation, he carelessly threw the tear back into his pocket and followed Lightning, the only one whom his heart warmed to anymore. He had once loved Serah, but his heart had grown cold with apathy.

After his guilt was defeated once and for all by adulation, his thoughts about Lightning increased in occurrence and grew in carnality. He fantasized about kissing her and feeling her tongue in his mouth, pictured her naked, and wondered what it would feel like inside her.

His perception was skewered beyond reparation. Serah was just a faraway dream, but Lightning was omnipresent in reality and his imagination.

* * *

Eventually he came to see how powerful his attraction really was and how completely it controlled him.

It happened one day on Gran Pulse. As their troupe wandered across the vast green plateau, Lightning accidentally triggered a battle with a Behemoth King. The beast snarled, its cape-like body billowing behind it.

"We can handle this!" she cried, before charging ahead. Snow and Sazh ran after her, completing the battle team. The fight went well for a couple minutes. The trio slowly but steadily whittled away the beast's health while enduring and evading its long teeth and claws.

Snow had stopped for a moment to regain his breath and his eyes gravitated towards Lightning, as they often did in battles. He never grew weary of watching her fight. He could not comprehend how she could exhibit tremendous strength and grace at once. He found the enigma both intriguing and attractive. Presently, her head was down, searching her pocket for a potion or another item. She didn't notice the behemoth quickly lumbering towards her.

"Lightning!" he screamed. She turned to him, a look of annoyance and confusion on her face. Shortly after, she was hurled into the air, the blade on the beast's skull impacting her chest. He could feel the pain erupting through his own skin.

"Dammit!" He ran to her crumpled body, terrified thoughts racing through his anxious head. The nightmare he had just witnessed replayed in his head.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sazh called angrily, firing his pistols at the behemoth, which was now targeting him. It slowly sauntered to him, swinging its claws wildly.

Snow didn't listen. "Light…Light, Light, are you okay?" he cried frantically, extending his arm to help her up. She swatted it away.

"I'm fine," she growled, but clutched her side with one hand. He gave her only a cursory glance, afraid he would see blood seep from her new wound.

"Heal yourself!" he urged. She was the only medic in the party, and he knew she must be badly injured, based solely on how long it took her to get up.

"No, we're not switching strategies now," she growled. She thrust her gunblade at him so it stopped uncomfortably close to his neck. He leaned away instinctively from the blade's sharp tip.

"Now leave me alone, before you kill me," she hissed.

"Got him!" Sazh cried, and they both turned toward the behemoth. Only he was far from dead.

"What the hell?" Lightning muttered. The beast stood up on two legs, pulsing with electricity.

"Goddammit, he healed himself!" Sazh cried, backing away cautiously as he reloaded his pistols.

It walked toward them, clutching a weapon in its paw that was somewhere between a scalpel and a chainsaw.

"Lightning..." Snow pleaded, not looking away from the giant beast.

"Same plan!" she cried, running fearlessly toward the scowling beast, gunblade held behind her.

It seemed to grin as she approached, raising its weapon high above its head. The sight sickened Snow; he knew with certainty that she couldn't take another hit.

Next thing he knew, he was sprinting to Lightning, stopping right in front of her just as the behemoth prepared to strike.

"Snow!" she cried furiously, still running towards him. He paid her no attention.

"Steelguard!" he grimaced, bracing himself. The huge metal weapon hit the ground with a crack, sending a fissure of earth directed toward them.  
He absorbed the majority of the massive attack. Immediately, he lost all strength in his legs and was on the verge of collapse when he heard an urgent cry behind him.

"Snow!" Unable to overcome her momentum, she collided with Snow just as he turned around. Faced with her added weight, he dropped to the ground, his back impacting the hard earth. A moment later, she fell on top of him like an afterthought, her gunblade clattering to the ground beside him.

In that moment, the combination of fatigue and infatuation reacted in such a way that all other elements crowding his senses dimmed in her presence. Gran Pulse, its bright colors and wild scents and formidable beasts faded away until all he felt was the warmth of her body on his and the fragile brush of her hair on his bare chest; all he heard was the whisper of her cape fluttering in the breeze; all he smelled was the perspiration that dampened her forehead; all he tasted was the tongue in his mouth that was making swallowing a chore; and all he saw was Lightning, her rose colored hair shining radiantly white where it reflected the sun. Then the brightness grew until the entirety of the sun's brilliance was directed into his gaze and all traces of color were erased from his sight.

He was forced to blink, only for an instant, but when his eyes opened again he was no longer on Gran Pulse. He was in Palumpolum, on Hope's father's bed, captivated by Lightning's electrifying eyes. It was the same scenario as before – his heart pounded at the same rapid pace; her hands were spread on the same locations on his trembling chest; his thoughts were as cluttered and pathetically unhelpful. But Hope did not bring their odd moment of uneasy concord to an abrupt end; instead, the situation arrived at what he had believed was the appropriate conclusion.

He kissed her, and she kissed him back, and it tasted like sunshine and happiness, and weightlessness grew in his stomach and he was floating peacefully because he knew that his feelings were reciprocated. But then the world was spinning and he felt a moderate dizziness that he wrongly attributed to desire. An instant later, he passed out.

"Snow! Lightning!" Sazh cried in terror. The beast sauntered in his direction.

Lightning's whole body was sore from colliding so heavily with Snow who was, as far as her bones were concerned, no different from a stone wall. When, after a couple seconds, she decided the risk of death surpassed the pain she currently coped with, she attempted to sit up and found his giant hand resting on her head. She brushed it off gently, as one would a stray leaf, and it fell lifelessly to the ground.

She regarded his motionless body in amazement. She knew that he had probably performed the same sacrificial act for Hope back in Palumpolum, with the same effect. She sighed.

"Sazh, keep attacking; I need to heal myself and..." She lost her train of thought somewhere on his face, which wasn't contorted in fear sr anguish but, strangely, peace.

She rolled her eyes. _Idiot._

When Snow awoke several minutes later the battle was over, to everyone's relief. If it weren't for Vanille's last second intervention, the monster may have won the fight.

Realizing his hallucination had been merely a figment of his eager, hopeful mind, he was discouraged, but only for a moment. He looked at his hand, swearing he could still feel her soft hair.

Confident again, he searched the landscape for Lightning. She was already far ahead of the group. He followed, nonchalantly trying to catch up.

* * *

The rest of the group trailed behind, watching Snow with curiosity. They had all seen the battle in its entirety, and Snow's actions in particular caught them off guard.

"That was odd," Vanille mused.

"Yeah, I've never seen a behemoth stand up on its hind legs before," Hope replied, watching the clouds.

"No!" she squealed, stomping her feet. She adjusted her pace to block his path, turned to face him, then pointed behind her dramatically so that Snow partially covered by her finger. "_Him_."

He appeared normal at first glance, but the longer they watched, the more discrepancies they noticed. His walk seemed to deviate from snows casual, effortless pace, and there was quickness, unconfidence in his step that they could not place.

"Wonder what's gotten into him," Fang joined them, her eyes also trained on Snow. "Something, or someone's got hold of his thoughts."

Sazh appeared by her side. "Poor kid. It's almost impossible to stay strong on faith alone." He stared at the horizon for a moment.

Fang crossed her arms and looked at him pointedly. "Maybe you outta ask him about it."

"All right, all right, I'll talk to him tonight. All he needs is some reassurance from the old man," Sazh said lightheartedly.

She smirked. "Well, we all know that you got it at least partly right." Hope and Vanille giggled.

"Hey, watch it, lady!" Sazh retorted as his comeback, and the others' peals of laughter, receded into the distance.

None of them noticed the lackluster engagement necklace abandoned  
back at the site of the battle, dropped there by a man who had found a new source of ambition.


End file.
